I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. | 

I UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. | 



SERMON 



COMMEMORATIVE OF 



JUSTIN R. HUNTLEY 



DELIVERED 



OCTOBER S3, 1864, 



C. D. W. BRIDGMAN, 

n 

Pastor op the Pearl Street Baptist Church. 



TOGETHER WITH MEMOIR AND LETTERS. 




ALBANY: 

WEED, PARSONS AND COMPANY, PRINTERS. 
1865. 



r 6' l i 



SERMON. 



I will not leave you comfortless; I will come to you. — John, xiv : 18. 

Tender and full of consolation as these words are, 
the disciples failed, at first, to comprehend their 
meaning. A mysteriousness so dark and perplexing 
hung around His intimations of a " going away " and 
a " coming again," that they could not tell what 
Christ had said. How it was that in a little while 
they should not see Him — not see Him at the very 
moment when they expected Him to awe the world 
into subjection by the stroke of some majestic 
miracle, and appear in the brightness of a royal and 
triumphant splendor — this they could not under- 
stand. His words distressed and amazed them. A 
cold shadow fell upon the sunlight of their joy. It 
was, however, expedient for them that the Lord 
should go away. They never knew Him in all the 
features of His character and nature, until the ascen- 
sion chariot swept upward with Him into the vortices 
of the enfolding air. From that time forth they saw 
Him with faith's clear vision, amid the revealing 
glories of another sphere — the Friend and Comforter 
of all His people. They lost Him for a moment, that 



they might find Him fore verm ore; they lost Him 
from earth, that they might behold Him with all the 
touches of a brother's sympathy still fresh upon Him, 
at the Father's right hand in heaven; they lost 
Him as the man of sorrows, that they might discover 
Him the mediator of their present hour, ensphering 
them in His own life and light, and conducting them 
through paths which sloped upward and grew radiant 
as they ran. Thus their knowledge of Him, like His 
love, was glorified by death. Thenceforth their faith 
took hold upon the risen Christ, to clasp and hold Him 
forevermore. 

But though these words have their broad, complete 
fulfillment only in the relation of Christ as our Com- 
forter, they may be applied, without irreverence let 
me hope, to all our departed Christian friends. As 
He came back to His disciples, so they return to us, 
whether they fall by the merciless bullet in the 
battle, or waste and faint in hospitals and homes. 
I. They re-appear to Memory. 

Death has its compensations, not for those only 
whom it takes, but for us, also, who remain behind. 
Its desolations are not altogether unrelieved. The 
friend is never so closely, truly, with us as when, 
vanished from mortal sight, he returns to abide with 
us in the communion of memory. The lost fellow- 
ship is restored by the quickening power of our remem- 
brance, and every place of his former presence seems 
again to hold him, as once it did, in the light of day. 

But these visions, in the first and bitter hours of 
grief, are distressing rather than soothiug in their 
main effect upon us. Then the heart's wound bleeds 



5 



afresh at every touch. We are being continually 
surprised by the bare, bleak fact that the loved one is 
really dead, and are too disturbed for calm and com- 
forting communion. I speak, therefore, not of these, 
but of those after-seasons of the soul, in^hich the 
present desolation is seen blended with the bloom 
and enjoyment of the past. We love in those still 
retired seasons to call up the images of the departed ; 
to let them hover round us as real for the hour as 
before we draped them in the livery of the grave. 

" Then the forms of the departed 

Enter at the open door ; 
The beloved, the true-hearted 

Come to visit us once more." 

We linger in that communion with a pleasing 
melancholy. We call up all that was lovely in their 
character, all that was delightful in their earthly in- 
tercourse, and discover that none of our friends ever 
come so fully, so vitally to our thought, as when 
they have vanished from our mortal sight. We 
must lose them to find them. They must take leave 
of the senses to effectually approach our souls. It 
almost seems as if, when their own tenements failed 
them, that we gave them a dwelling-place in ours ; 
that they enter as of right to sit at the heart's table 
evermore in the inward feast that needs not the earthly 
cheer of bread or wine. No fleshly barriers inter- 
pose their hindrance — no mortal dimness affects our 
vision — but in a warm and holy closeness they are 
folded to our souls as never when in their tabernacles 
of the flesh. Oh ! in our superstitious hours we talk of 
houses haunted and of spectral figures flitting through 
midnight darkness, and gathering, a weird company, 



6 



in the shadows of the cemetery ; but we all are 
haunted in this vital dwelling of ours, and communed 
with constantly by those who bade us once farewell, 
but whom memory has snatched away from death 
and secre^fe within the inner chambers of the soul. 
Like constant lodgers they retain their rooms from 
year to year. They grow better and brighten in our 
breasts. They open for us a new realm of thought 
and work within us mightily as never before. 

"through, the open doors 

The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, 
With feet that make no sound upon the floor." 

Are any of the living actually with you more than 
they ? Would they be as constant to you and as influ- 
ential, if they had not gone? 

In close connection with this thought is the fact 
that by some delicate process of refinement we most 
vividly remember only what was good in the departed. 
Only in a partial sense is it true that " the evil that 
men do lives after them ; the good is oft interred with 
their bones." We see them in their best manifesta- 
tion, and live over only the hours of our most pleas- 
ant intercourse. Who of us perceived what disguised 
angels they were, till their falling robes revealed them 
as aDgels indeed ? Who of us appreciated as we do 
now, their holy courage for the right and the sweet 
patience with which life's disciplines were met? 
Thus does memory recall them transfigured to their 
proper selves — thus do we perceive them through 
the bloom of distance, with a heightened beauty, and 
with augmented power to move or bind our souls. 

But this action of memory is spontaneous and 
natural, and has reference to all alike, irrespective of 



7 



moral character. We behold them thus without the 
intervention of religion and the enlightening process 
of faith. We pass, therefore, to consider the text, as 
illustrated by the fact that 
II. Hiey re-a^ear to Faith. 

We speak of death in current phrases, as a sad, 
inevitable fate, which has overtaken others and is 
to overtake ourselves. We contemplate it as though 
the Christ had not yet risen, nor broken the tyrant's 
scepter against that riven tomb in Judea. Christi- 
anity has changed its aspect and relation to us ; and 
we may regard it not with passionate hate, but with 
a quiet reverence. It is a divine message from above, 
not an invasion from the abyss beneath; not the 
fiendish hand of darkness thrust up to snatch our 
gladness enviously away, but a rainbow gleam that 
descends through tears ; and the religious spirits will 
look away from the ghastly secrets of the sepulchre 
to whither Christ ascended as the first fruits of them 
that slept. Death, to the believer, comes as consoler, 
rewarder, uplifter to a higher realm ; it is to him 
ascension on the line of Christ's upward passage; 
veiled, indeed, from the outward vision, but to be 
recognized by the eye of faith. Were our hearts but 
truly opened to that revelation, the death-chamber 
would seem more like a mount of vision than the 
cold, shadowy dell where sorrow broods. There 
would be no agony of grief, no look of despair by 
the bedside. The thought of disembodiment would 
be significant of the joy of victory and the corona- 
tion anthem. Christian survivors would join with 
the dying saint in majestic thanksgiving that he is 



8 



counted worthy to be first exalted to the magnificent 
privileges of the saved in Heaven. Exultantly would 
he go from us, not " as a slave, scourged to his dun- 
geon," but with the aspect of a conqueror, marching 
homeward from his final victory. Our vision would 
not rest on the grave, but following our departed on 
their upward way, and entering heaven by the same 
door through which Christ ascended, would behold 
them in the midst of that great multitude, which in 
the unity of celestial love dwell together beyond the 
shining screen of stars, living and crowned and tri- 
umphant; all the hot tumult of earthly experience 
stilled and quieted within them ; all the fever beating 
of this blood of ours forever at an end ; all the 
" slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" done with 
forever ; all the lines of sorrow and pain and sickness 
melted away out of their calm faces, giving them a 
nobler nobleness than we had ever seen upon them 
in their mortal life ; and confirming in every experi- 
ence and movement of their glorified existence the 
sentence in the Apocalypse, " Blessed are the dead 
who die in the Lord." 

Such a vision, however, as is given to faith is 
different from that which memory enjoys. In the 
presence of their Lord, the virtuous are sinless, and 
the just made perfect, and the pious sainted. An 
added beauty is on their countenances, and an 
added excellence in the character of those whom we 
thus see. The friend who had, when with us, but 
few faults — as few, perhaps, as mortal ever had — 
is now, to the eye of Faith, strengthened forever 
against his weaknesses, and unfolding into fresher 



v 



9 



and more radiant beauty. The child whom we re- 
garded with tender love, as a bud just plucked from 
paradise, we still see as a child — for absent children 
never grow old to our thoughts ; but is not our love 
now mingled with a kind of reverence, a reverence 
different from that we feel for purity alone, and 
such as we cannot feel for a child on earth ? oSow 
you perceive that this vision of the departed, as at 
present living, and with heightened capacities and 
powers, is necessarily and only the vision of a 
Christian faith. The sepulchre no longer locks them 
in its relentless arms, but rent and shattered by the 
reviving Lord, His followers share in His great 
victory and follow in His upward path, that where 
He is they ma}' be also. Where memory recalls 
them as they were in mortal weakness, faith be- 
holds them rising perpetually to yet grander at- 
tainments, reveling in yet richer, holier pleasures, 
unfolding into features of diviner beauty, fuller of 
love, greater for filial and fraternal service, and, the 
august witnesses of our daily conflicts, sharing 
in our experiences, and celebrating in melodious 
measures our victories achieved by faith. And 
thus, that wide, uncovered seam, which yawned 
between the heathen and his dead, is spanned by 
the arch of the Christian revelation, and across it on 
this side or on that, the saintly spirits in heaven 
and on earth pass and meet for helpful, comforting 
communions. 

I do not imagine that those who are young among 
us, unvisited yet of a heavy sorrow, appreciate as 

fully as others can the consolations flowing from 
2 



10 



this revelation which Christ has made to Faith. 
Their friends are yet beheld with mortal vision — 
except Him, the dearest friend of all — and therefore 
they rarely think of that fellowship which is only 
spiritual. But there is a period of mortal life, at 
which those who are gone, begin to bear a large 
proportion to those who remain. The broken circle 
lessens to a yet smaller arc — a little longer and 
almost all have crossed the river to its farther side — 
and the Christian's faithful heart records the length- 
ening train of the departed. The natural has be- 
come to him the spiritual ; and if the earth is 
hallowed by their graves, the upper air is holier 
still with their hovering souls released. Amid his 
seeming desolateness he has the joy and solace 
which flows from faith. Death has refined the forms 
of those he loved, beyond all recognition by the 
senses ; but death has done nothing more. His 
spirit beholds them as companion spirits, still mov- 
ing with downcast eyes in their celestial ministries, 
more familiar with his wants and weakness than 
when they walked with hini on earth, more tenderly 
considerate of his well being and final triumph. 
It is of these he thinks, with these he walks. 
Stretched across the line that divides the earthly 
from the heavenly, hand seems joined in hand again ; 
heart throbs with heart, and so, looking upward, 
and having his conversation with those in heaven, 
he patiently awaits the coming of his Lord. 

But yet so natural are we in our conceptions that 
it were a quite imperfect satisfaction if, in this imper- 
ceptible, intangible way alone, the departed should 



11 



re-appear. Tenderly appealing to an instinct planted 
in us by the Creator, our religion teaches us also that 
III. They will re-appear in the Besiirrection. 

Blessed be God, our dead " shall come again from 
the land of the enemy." The old combination — 
" body, soul and spirit" — which was on earth, is to be 
the perfect humanity of heaven. The spirits that are 
dwelling in blessedness, at this moment are stretching 
out expectant hands of faith and hope, waiting to be 
" clothed upon with their house which is from hea- 
ven," when their highest perfection shall be attained 
to, in the redemption of the body. 

Since Christ came, the spring-time daisies blooming 
on every grave repeat His words, " I am the Eesur- 
rection and the Life." From every sepulchre since 
Lazarus was recalled to life, a voice has issued pro- 
phetic of the final victory over death and the grave. 

Somewhere and at some time — though where and 
when we cannot tell — yet, face to face and eye to eye, 
shall our vanished ones be given back, in the resur- 
rection morning, in most holy, blessed intimacy, 
" clothed upon with their house which is from heaven." 
We cannot speak here in description of what that 
bodily condition may be. 

" Behold a man raised up by Christ; 
The rest remaineth unrevealed." 

Only this we know — that, reversing all the weak- 
nesses of the flesh, a faint conception may be attained 
to, of that marvelous membership of the celestial 
body in which immortal strength shall be united with 
immortal beauty, after the likeness of the glorious 
body of the Lord. " It is sown in corruption, it is 



12 



raised in incorruption : it is sown in dishonor, it is 
raised in glory : it is sown in weakness, it is raised in 
power : it is sown a natural body" — fit organ for the 
nature which stands connected with this material 
universe ; " it is raised a spiritual body" — fit servant 
for the spirit that dwells in it, and is perfected in its 
redemption. And " then shall be brought to pass the 
saying that is written, * Death is swallowed up in 
victory ! O Death, where is thy sting ? O Grave, 
where is thy victory? "' And so, with eager hope, 
we look forward from our spiritual communion with 
the departed to that rapturous hour when the ever- 
lasting morning dawns, when * ' earth's recovered 
friends shall meet," rising according to the body of 
Christ's own glory ; when they, looking into His face, 
and flashing back its love, its light, its beauty, shall 
each break forth into singing, as the rising light of 
that uusetting day touches their transfigured and 
immortal heads, in the triumphant thanksgiving, " I 
am satisfied, for I awake in Thy likeness." 

I have spoken to you in these words, beloved, with 
a more special purpose than for general consolation. 
A more urgent reason has impelled me to this 
service. Since the war begun, I have made it the 
rule of my duty to pay at least a passing tribute to 
every one, out of the number gone from this society, 
who should fall in their honorable service. I could 
do nothing less than declare the object for which 
they bleed, and pronounce the benediction of the 
sanctuary on the cause to which they went with so 
entire a consecration. 

A tribute, which circumstances have long delayed, 



13 



I would render in few, admiring words, to one who is 
the youngest offering from us that God has claimed — 
the very firstling of the flock, the flower in the bud, 
with the dew of God's blessing on it. 

Justin - Baynor Huxtley, on the twenty-sixth day 
of August last, yielded up his life, in its very spring- 
time, for the cause of liberty and native land. On 
account of his extreme youth, he had been strongly 
advised not to enter the service ; but no arguments, 
no multiplied and persistent expostulations could 
avail against his own resolve. He seemed to have 
heard, youthful as he was, a call in his own soul, so 
clear and loud as to drown all counsel from without. 
No boyish willfulness was it that spoke in his en- 
treaties for the parental consent, for rarely have I 
read expressions into which more filial love and ten- 
derness were breathed, than abound in his letters to 
those at home. But affection was not strong enough 
to keep down the rising conviction of duty. No love 
of adventure, no boyish dream of personal freedom 
lured him on toward sacrifices greater than he 
dreamed ; for when they came they were borne with 
the true hero's courage, while former restraints con- 
tinued on him from his own holy and firm resolve, as 
those around him have most amply testified. " The 
zeal of God's house, in the shape of our political 
order and the temple of our liberty," seemed to have 
consumed all selfish and personal feeling in him. A 
higher breath than kindred blood can impart, aroused 
the patriotic fervor. In those restless nights which 
the household well remember, he heard the summons 
as though from God's own lips the trumpet had 



14 

received its stirring blast. He felt a noble shame, 
lie could not bear, in staying at home out of this con- 
test for the right ; and so was this boy of seventeen 
stirred from within to mingle in the sublimest con- 
test of the land and age. 

A half year ago he enlisted and became a member 
of the Forty-fourth regiment. Shortly afterward he 
was attached to General Bartlett's staff, in which 
relation he remained through the remainder of his 
brief but . honorable service, winning on every side 
the compliments of those who saw him, for his fidelity 
and courage. Attached to the army in Virginia only 
so recently, he was, however, present in all the en- 
gagements following the battle in " the Wilderness," 
serving as orderly or aid, and always to the satisfac- 
tion of the officer under whose authority he was. 
Writing with reference to Justin's behavior, General 
Bartlett says : "I take pleasure in informing you 
that your son is polite and gentlemanly in his deport- 
ment, attentive and willing, that he always delivers 
a message correctly, and stands fire like a veteran." 
" I will see that he is placed where he will be of the 
greatest service to the cause, and have an oppor- 
tunity of doing credit to himself and to his father 
and mother." "A man," says the old philosopher, 
" cannot be hid." 

From these few words you have learned how his 
manly bearing impressed those who knew him best in 
the field ; but you have not learned the refinement of 
his nature, the tenderness with which he regarded 
those at home, his fine sense of honor, or the power 
of his religious trust against the temptations of the 



15 



camp. The love, as of a little child, for his parents 
and sister, expresses itself most touchingly in every 
letter ; nor did one ever come from his pen in which 
his Christian faith did not make grateful mention of 
the Father's goodness, and entreat for their remem- 
brance of him at the family altar. Amid all the 
temptations which concentrate so fiercely in onr 
camps, he kept his soul pure and white ; and if he 
saved not others, by the Father's grace saved at least 
himself. Let me read to you from one or two of his 
letters, and from these learn all : " As yet I have not 
done anything but what I should have done if you 
had been looking on all my actions. With all the 
card-playing I have seen — and I see a great deal 
every day — the more I see of it, the greater my desire 
is never to learn. Even noiv, in the tent next to mine, 
some of those I am compelled to associate with more 
or less every day are gambling. Pray that I may be 
spared all the dangers of war." In another letter he 
wrote thus pleasantly : " The only cards I handle are 
those on which are the pictures of Pa, Ma, and my 
sister Hattie."* Ah, how did the courage of the 
bearded man get under that downy cheek? In what 
way did scorn of death blend with those blushes 
of innocence? Whence did that young soul draw 
strength to endure all this hardness as a good soldier 
of Jesus Christ ? What lesson did this brave and 
loving boy learn, on those quiet seats below, or in the 
holy atmosphere of home, that, so bravely, triumph- 
antly, he could breast temptation and mingle in with 
the smoke and roar and boundless confusion of embat- 



* Other extracts were read, but they are printed near the end of this memorial. 



16 



tied hosts ? He learned the truth of God reconciled 
in Jesus Christ, when, four years ago, he fixed his 
trust upon the Saviour ; he had learned the lesson 
of the Father's providence, and that as his day his 
strength would be ; he had learned in childhood, what 
manhood oftenest fails to learn, that duty is the law 
of the immortal life ; and, with that triple armor, tell 
me of a danger he could not confront : tell me of a 
struggle in which he would not win the victory. 

But with a future so hopeful and so fair, with all 
these prophecies of a wide and lasting usefulness in 
the church and state, why was this lamb singled out 
for the destroyer's purpose ? I know not, save that 
the preciousness of such a life might heighten our 
conception of the interests to be maintained in 
our fierce contest, kindle and fan our souls into the 
fervor of his patriotism, and give a priceless value to 
our victory. I know not, but He knows who suffers 
no missile to be sped by chance, nor disease to go 
forth unguided on its wasting errand. He knows, 
who has ordained that in this battling of a nation 
against a murderous conspiracy, as young David 
slung the stone into the giant's forehead and became 
the deliverer of Israel, young lads whom Himself made 
brave, should act with stalwart manhood and leave 
their mortality on the field to make up more of the 
nation's needed ransom. 

But young as our brother was, God took him not 
before he had honored His name by his unfaltering 
devotion to his country's welfare, and by his moral 
victories achieved by faith. Attacked by a disease 
that soon revealed its fatal character, he rapidly sank 



17 



to rally and to rise no more. And so this history that 
was begun so brightly, is suddenly brought to its con- 
clusion, and, like fruit that grace has early ripened, 
Justin has fallen into his Saviour's awaiting arms. 
He has gone, but he comes back again, and we are 
not comfortless. In memory we cherish him as one 
who, by God's inspiration, has filled up the measure 
of his days with the fruits of a lofty and a holy pur- 
pose. Through faith we see him in bright vision 
among the redeemed who move exultantly through 
their exalted service in the heavenly city; and in 
hope, beloved, we will complete our pilgrimage, that 
He, who once said, in Bethany, " Lazarus, come 
forth," will greet us in the resurrection and give 
back to us in immortal and more perfect fellowship 
than this of earth, all the Christian friends of whom 
we have been bereft. Then, 

" Take them, Death ! and bear away 
Whatever thou canst call thine own ! 

Thine image, stamped upon this clay 
Doth give thee that, but that alone ! " 

3 



MEMOIR. 



i. 

Justin E. Huntley was born December 10, 1846, 
in Hamburg, Erie county, N". Y. At seven years 
of age lie commenced attending school, which he 
continued to do without material interruption until 
about sixteen, when he graduated from the Exper- 
imental Department of the State Normal School 
at Albany. Possessing a strong physical constitu- 
tion and a ready and active mind, he mastered the 
course of study with comparative ease, placing him- 
self in -rank among the best of his class. In his 
school life there were many little incidents which 
were, for the time, considered somewhat remarkable 
by his particular friends and admirers, but are not of 
sufficient importance to claim notice here. 

In the spring of 1858, during a season of religious 
interest in the Pearl Street Baptist church at Albany, 
he was hopefully converted, and united with that 
church by baptism, under the ministry of Eev. Dr. 
Hague, which connection was maintained until his 
death. As evidence of the fidelity and firmness with 
which he held fast his religious convictions, it may 
be stated that during the continuance of the " boys' 
prayer meeting," for two years, he was never absent 
except when away from the city. 



20 



There appeared to be quite early developed a firm- 
ness or stability of character which induced him to 
adhere with tenacity to any course which he believed 
to be right. However, possessing a genial disposi- 
tion, he was liable to the influence of those with 
whom he associated, and parental caution or restraint 
was occasionally necessary : being not marked by 
vicious tendencies, those restraints were easily made 
effective. 

The spring of 1861 brought the fall of Fort Sum- 
ter and the spontaneous uprising of the North. While 
the government was marshaling its hosts preparatory 
to putting down the rebellion, the boys caught the 
military spirit and organized themselves into com- 
panies and regiments, for drill in the tactics of war. 
Eight or ten companies of "Boys' Zouaves" were 
organized, uniformed and equipped in Albany, one 
of which was drilled and commanded by Justin. 
Subsequently, desiring to be organized as a regiment 
for parade on various occasions, the officers met to 
elect their field officers, when Justix was unani- 
mously chosen colonel. The fourth of July was the 
occasion of their first appearance, when, numbering 
about five hundred, they presented such soldierly 
appearance, and evidence of such excellent discipline, 
as made them one of the most interesting features 
of the procession and celebration. 

Here, then, was first developed that military ardor 
and self-sacrificing patriotism which seemed at times 
to fill his mind, to the exclusion of every other con- 
sideration. During the first three years of the war 
he was almost unremitting in endeavors to obtain 



21 



his parents' consent that he might go. He was sure 
he could be useful in many capacities — a " drummer 
boy," a clerk in some department, or even an offi- 
cer's servant. His requests being refused, again and 
again, at each successive call of the government for 
men, they became more importunate. Though per- 
sistently refused and discouraged, and warned that 
actual war and the battling of armies was no holiday 
parade — though the scarred and maimed veterans 
returning from the camp and hospital and bloody 
field, told their thrilling stories of privation, suffering 
and death — yet did he not forbear his entreaties to 
be allowed to go. 

The call for volunteers in the winter of '64, 
seemed, in all human probability, to be the last. 
Justin felt that then was presented the only 
opportunity for him to serve his country. His 
anxiety became more intense, his arguments and 
entreaties more vehement. He had developed re- 
markably during the last year, not only physically 
but in every trait of manliness. He seemed to be 
no longer a boy. The cautions and restraints need- 
ful to youth were becoming quite unnecessary, for 
there was settling into his consciousness a feeling 
of responsibility ; a desire for noble thoughts and 
worthy deeds, which tended greatly to relieve his 
parents from the anxiety incident to that period of 
youth, when character for life is usually formed. 
The transition from youth to manhood, if not fully 
complete, was full of promise, and gave abundant 
hope of that stability of character which marks the 
Christian and the virtuous citizen. 



22 



He urged that he was above the necessary stand- 
ard in stature and strength, and consequently able 
to endure the fatigues and duties of the camp and 
field ; that, as his country needed more men, in this 
her final struggle to subdue the rebellion, and as his 
religious principles were now so firmly fixed, as to 
enable him, by Divine assistance, to withstand the 
temptations of a military life, he was bound by every 
consideration of patriotism and Christian fidelity to 
give his services to this noble cause — the more 
especially as he could set a proper religious example 
in the midst of vice and temptation, inviting those, 
who through weakness had fallen, to a higher life, 
by kindly words and Christian deeds. He had made 
it the subject of prayer for weeks and months. 
Many sleepless nights were occasioned by anxiety 
to know his duty, and he felt confident that God 
would protect him from all harm. If he could not 
go at this call, no further opportunity would be 
offered to make his record among the defenders of 
the government and the old flag; that he had 
taken no part in this gigantic contest, for the 
existence of the government, would be a life-long 
stigma upon his name. With these and similar 
arguments his suit was pressed, day after day and 
week after week, until a reluctant consent was 
finally wrung from his parents. With marked ex- 
pressions of gratitude he testified his joy for the 
permission to enroll himself as a soldier of the 
Union. He repeatedly said: "You shall never 
have cause to regret my going to the war." " I feel 
that God will give me strength to resist the tempta- 



23 



tions of the camp." "Ma, you shall be proud of 
your son." 

He enlisted in the 44th Regiment New York Vol- 
unteers, Co. E., commanded by Oapt. Husted, April 
1, 1864. Major Allen, commanding the recruiting 
detachment of the 44th in Albany, finding his services 
necessary in the office, retained him in it till those 
upon this service were ordered to report to their regi- 
ment. On May 12 he left the city, in company with 
the detachment. Though sad at parting with parents 
and friends, a consciousness that he had voluntarily 
assumed the manly and patriotic position to fight for 
his country and the loved ones at home, animated 
his countenance with an expression of hope and joy. 
Not elated with the novelty of his new position, or 
the spirit of adventure, there was a serious thought- 
fulness pervading his mind. Within the hour pre- 
vious to his departure, he read aloud the 5th chapter 
of Romans. Then at his request, all joined in sing- 
ing " Home, Sweet Home;" and his beautiful voice, 
always sweet, seemed unusually thrilling and sym- 
pathetic. After which he buckled on his haversack 
and bade the family adieu. Tears were in a measure 
stifled by that strong hope and confidence he realized 
so fully. Though he was going where danger 
was, yet duty appeared to be there also. None 
could feel that this was his last home interview ; that 
the voice so touching in its melody would so soon be 
hushed ; that the spirit so joyous with hope and trust 
would so soon wing its way to the heaven of the 
blessed. 

It is due to the officers of the 44th, on recruiting 



24 



duty, to say, that they did not encourage his enlist- 
ing. Though they admired his abilities, ardent 
patriotism and military spirit, they sought by all fair 
means to dissuade him from entering the service. 
Stories of the hardships, privations, dangers and 
terrors of the war were frequently rehearsed to him by 
some who had seen and felt them, that he might be 
induced to relinquish his design. Being appealed 
to on one occasion, whether in regard to such dread- 
ful facts his determination was not shaken, he replied 
with much spirit, " I have taken all these things into 
the account." He frequently remarked, as to the 
loss of a limb, with the attendant suffering, was com- 
paratively a slight matter ; if one could return with 
life, conscious of having served his country in its 
time of peril, such a sacrifice would be slight indeed. 
His confidence was, that the Judge of all the earth 
would do right as regarding himself, which induced 
a strong feeling of safety under His protecting care. 

He was devotedly attached to the 44th Eegiment. 
The process of organizing it at Albany, during a 
period of three months, afforded Justin ample oppor- 
tunity of becoming acquainted with the officers and 
a large number of the privates. The marked ability 
of the officers and the manly bearing of the rank 
and file, contrasting in no small degree with some 
others, won his regard and admiration. He realized 
the importance, in his extreme youth, of selecting for 
his companions and associates those whose characters 
for purity were above reproach, and whose culture 
was that of gentlemen. So strong was this, that 
when offered a commission by Col. Wilson of the 



25 



43d New York, he preferred to take a humbler position 
in the 44th. He admired Col. Wilson as a man and 
a brave officer, and would have liked a position in 
his command, but he was not so well acquainted with 
that regiment. 

Previous to Justin's enlistment, the officers in com- 
mand of the regiment consented that he should have 
some position which would uot subject him to the 
fatigues of long marches, and the severer hardships 
of the common soldier. Had this been impractica- 
ble, his parents could not have given their consent 
for him to go to the war. Though his health was 
good and he had, apparently, considerable solidity of 
frame, yet he was quite too young — being only in 
his eighteenth year — and had been too tenderly 
cared for, to be able to sustain the severe discipline 
of the army with knapsack and gun. It seemed to 
be quite too certain that he could not endure the 
extreme fatigue and exposure, incident to the sol- 
dier's duty in the ranks ; and with his ability and 
ready adaptation — being already familiar with the 
manual of tactics and ordinary military affairs, he 
could be vastly more useful in some other capacity. 
In accordance with this understanding, he was 
detached from the regiment shortly after joining it 
and assigned to duty as special orderly to Brig.-Gen. 
J. J. Baetlett, which position he held till August 17, 
when he was sent to City Point Hospital. 
4 



26 



II. 

On May 16, Justin joined the army near Spot- 
sylvania, and reported for duty to Oapt. Husted. 
Feeling himself perfectly able to take the chances 
of war with the men, he did not choose to inform the 
captain that the design was for him to perform a 
lighter service than that of the common soldier. 
He was equipped accordingly and placed in the 
ranks. During the two weeks he was with the 
regiment, his corps performed one of the severest 
forced marches of the campaign. He was one of the 
few in the regiment that did not "fall out," but 
resolutely kept his position to the end of the march. 
In writing home, he expressed some pride in calling 
the attention of his friends, who doubted his ability 
to perform the severer duties of the soldier, to the 
facts connected with this march, as conclusive evi- 
dence of his power of endurance to make a full soldier. 
[See Maj. Allen's and Oapt. Husted's letters.] 

His love of country was a strong element in his 
character. His persistent efforts to join the army of 
the Union, to battle for her defense, have been pre- 
viously alluded to. As before he went to the field, 
no recitals of distress or privation could dampen his 
ardor, so now, after coming face to face with the stern 
realities of war, after enduring the hardships of a 
terrible campaign, neither his fortitude nor patriotism 
in the least forsook him. George H. Dickson, clerk 
at Division Head-quarters, and who was on intimate 
terms with Justin, says : 

" On the hardest marches, and during inclement weather, 
exposed to great fatigue, while others were complaining and 
cursing, because of the hardships they were compelled to en- 



27 



dure, he was in bright spirits, and took everything very coolly. 
His patriotism was unbounded ; and though he was often 
obliged to listen to complaints from others, I never heard an 
unpatriotic word escape his lips." 

Others say "he was always cheerful, and never 
uttered the slightest complaint." Justin writes, in 
the last letter before his sickness : 

"I know, my dear parents, that you still trust me as much 
as ever ; and it my prayers are answered, I shall never give 
you cause to regret, that you put enough confidence in me to 
let me join the army " 

In a previous letter he says : 

44 Yes, Pa, I have had work and privations, and I have been 
in as great danger as any one this week, but I have not mur- 
mured, nor have I flinched in the least from any duty that 
brought me into danger." 

Though the main and controlling motive was, to be 
of some service in crushing out the rebellion — to do 
his share in sustaining the old flag, as he frequently 
expressed it — he had a remarkable taste, or love, for 
the profession of arms. Long before he was old 
enough to enter the Military Academy at West Point, 
he expressed a strong desire to get an appointment 
for that school. At times it was the great burden of 
his mind to devise some means by which sufficient 
influence could be made available for that purpose. 
Efforts having been made two or three times by influ- 
ential parties, and failed to secure the appointment, 
he felt sure that meritorious service in the war would 
be quite certain to secure his admission into that 
school. Should he come out of the war uninjured, 
bearing the evidence of honorable service, that, he 
felt assured, would be a passport to success. 



28 



Before joining the army, there were no marked 
indications of superior courage, for the reason, per- 
haps, that the circumstances in which he had been 
placed had done nothing to develop this quality. 
There are no quarrels with boys to record, no break- 
ing away from parental restraints to engage in some 
reckless juvenile enterprise, but if he were fully 
convinced of the right, he was firm and unyielding 
in performing duty. Coming at once into the posi- 
tion and responsibilities of manhood, and also the 
post of danger, seemed to develop latent powers 
within him, of which there had been little previous 
indication. Among those qualities which sprung 
into being, as it were, when the occasion demanded, 
was his unflinching bravery, of which there is abund- 
ant testimony. Said Sergeant Davis : 

" I have seen Justin ride into battle many times, and always 
with a smile on his countenance — sometimes amid the roar 
of artillery, and balls whistling around him, he would be 
whistling some favorite melody, apparently unconscious of 
danger." 

Capt. Douglas writes, "It would be impossible to 
find one more brave." [See letter.] 

Alluding to some remark in a letter previously 
received by him, Justin says: 

"Now as I look back over what I have gone through, and 
by the good will of God safely, it astonishes me. I should 
not have thought myself capable. I have so behaved under 
fire that the officers have noticed and spoken of my coolness 
and bravery. (I don't say this to any one else.) I am sure 
you will never forget to thank God for preserving me ; for 
they could not have put the shot and shell into any place faster 
than they did where I was." 



29 



The coolness manifested in the hour of peril was, 
in a great degree, owing to his confidence in the 
preserving care of the infinite Father. There was no 
faltering here. Every letter speaks this great con- 
fidence. He closes a letter, June 8, thus : 

" Whenever you hear of the 5th Corps (Warren's) being in 
any fight you may safely conclude I am not far off. But God 
will guard, and God will guide me. I hope you never forget 
the soldier boy down in Virginia, who needs your prayers, 
and God who needs our thanks." 

His piety did not forsake him. Amid the tempta- 
tions and vices of the camp, he swerved not in his 
loyalty to Christ and His truth. Though pressed on 
every side to deviate from the line of religious duty, 
he stood firm by the faith he professed — an example 
of purity in life and a Christian in faith and love. 
His spotless life bore strange contrast with many seen 
in camp. His undeviating adherence to his resolu- 
tions, made before enlisting, his gentlemanly de- 
meanor and kind-heartedness, were the outgrowth of 
a heart renewed by grace. These qualities, blended 
with his invincible courage and faithfulness in the 
performance of duty, made him the admiration of the 
officers and men with whom he became acquainted. 
A sergeant at head-quarters remarked: 

u We were not long in finding out that Justin was a Chris- 
tian. His prompt but polite refusal to be led into any question- 
able practices, his kind reproofs, and his detestation of profane 
swearing, were unmistakable evidence of a Christian heart." 

The clerk at head-quarters writes : 
" He was good, kind and gentle, and had a kind word for 
all. I never heard him utter an improper word. He abhorred 



t 



30 



an oath, and would always look with sorrow upon those who 
swore. The army is the hardest place for one to lead an ex- 
emplary life; but he maintained his good character at all 
times, and was an example for us all. Such were his actions 
while with us — such were his manly virtues, gentlemanly 
habits and kind words always, that he gained the esteem of 
every one." 

Gen. Baetlett says : 

" I learned, greatly to my surprise, that his gentle bearing 
emanated from a pure Christian spirit; and I felt that the 
child should be my instructor." 

Knowing intemperance to be the prevailing vice 
of the soldier, he resolved to adhere strictly to 
" total abstinence." No inducements were sufficient 
to make him swerve from his original purpose. Whis- 
key rations and cordials were refused, till the peremp- 
tory orders of the surgeon made necessary a modifi- 
cation of his practice. 

In his last very brief letter, August 17, the day 
he entered the hospital at City Point, he writes : "I 
have to take now three times a day a mixture of whis- 
key and quinine. But I shall use it no longer than 
necessary." 

Whatever had any immoral tendency, no matter 
how slight or seductive in its influence, met in him 
an unyielding opposition. Nothing should tarnish 
that purity of soul with which he left the home 
circle. He had given his promise against the use of 
intoxicating liquors, and tobacco and card-playing, 
and that promise should not be violated. 

Thus he passed through the ordeals of tempta- 
tion in camp unsullied — no stain upon the bright 



31 



armor of his character — an example to all, of devo- 
tion to principle, of a pure filial affection, and a 
reverence for God and His truth. These character- 
istics, combined with his promptness and accuracy in 
the discharge of his duties, courage in time of peril, 
and gentlemanly deportment, won upon all the 
officers who knew him. 

His graceful address and genial humor were the 
admiration of his friends — his happy and merry 
disposition was the delight of the household ; but 
the respect and love for his parents, and the admira- 
tion and tender affection for his little sister, fitted 
him particularly for the enjoyment of home, and are 
the characteristics around which memory loves to 
linger most fondly. 

His friend, Dickson, writes : 

" The love he bore for his father, mother and his sister was 
great, and when he spoke of his parents it was always with the 
most profound respect. One evening, in a social circle, Justin 
showed the photographs of his friends. One remarked, in a 
careless way : 'The old man is fine looking.' With manly 
dignity Justin resented it, and replied : 1 Sir, my father is a 
gentleman, and I wish you would speak of him with some 
respect. I never use such expressions in regard to him, and 
you would confer a great favor on me by avoiding such refer- 
ence in future.' Whether the young man intended any dis- 
respect or not, it is certain he felt very much ashamed of the 
remark, and apologized for the incivility." 



32 



III. 

August 12, JuSTix writes : 

"My hand is so unsteady that my friend, Dickson, will tell 
you, at ray prompting, that I have had my usual ' billious 
attack.' But the doctor says I will be all right day after to- 
morrow. I have not been in the hospital, neither shall I go." 

From other sources of information, it appears that 
his health had been quite poor for weeks, though this 
was the first allusion he makes in regard to ill health. 
Disease had for some time been taking firm hold 
upon him, while he resolutely determined not to 
yield to its influence, nor alarm his friends at home. 
During the campaign, the climate, fatigues and 
exposure incident to it, were insidiously undermin- 
ing his health, but his strong will would not permit 
him to ask relief or complain while it was possible 
for him to perform his duties. He felt a contempt 
for slight difficulties or slight ailments, and none 
should ever say he left his post of duty for small 
cause. If he asked for relief, it should be from 
necessity. 

Captain Douglass, in his letter, says : 

" The last time I saw him, in July or the beginning of 
August, he was looking quite pale and thin, although as 
cheerful as ever. He spoke of his mother, and wished he 
could be at home for a little while, and she would cure him 
with her good nursing. At that time we were all nearly worn 
out by the march from the Rapidan, and so I did not think 
him in any danger, nor did he. Alas, it was the last time I 
was to see him upon earth. He walked a little way with me 
when I left, and, with a promise from him to ride over and 
see me before long, I returned to ray regiment, then two or 
three miles distant. In a day or two our regiment moved 



33 



across the James, and I had no further opportunity of seeing 
my friend." 

Lieutenant Bartlett, of General Bartlett's 
staff, says: 

"In front of Petersburg Justin was taken sick, but would 
not for some time allow himself to be taken to the hospital. 
At length he consented to go to the division hospital, and, as 
he started, I bade him good-bye, little thinking that it was 
forever. I went home then with the General, who was him- 
self sick, and, upon my return, learned with sorrow that he 
had been taken from the 4 ranks ' and promoted to a place 
with angels." 

Mr. Dickson writes : 

" For a week after he was taken sick, which was about the 
8th of August, he was around, having chills and fever, but 
he thought he would soon be well. He continued, however, 
to grow weak; the food he received he could not relish, and 
seemed to crave for something agreeable to the taste, and, at 
the same time, a nourishment. This he thought he could 
obtain at the hospital, and consented to be sent there, think- 
ing that in a few days he would be with us again." 

He was removed from the division hospital to 
City Point, August 17. For three or four days — 
still unwilling to be considered sick — "being only 
weak, and having only a little fever and a little 
diarrhea," as he expressed it in his last letter, he 
did not desire to claim attention from the surgeons 
and nurses of the hospital. Sergeant Moslander, 
convalescent in the hospital, and previously ac- 
quainted with him, voluntarily came to his assist- 
ance, watched with him and took the principal care 
5 



34 



of Mm. He insisted to the ward-master and the 
surgeon, that Justin was very sick and needed 
much better care. After the first few days, he was 
delirious most of the time. In his delirium, his 
thoughts were constantly about his parents and 
home, or his duties on the field or in camp. 

Justin had been always very prompt and regular 
in correspondence with his parents ; scarcely a week 
had elapsed since he left, without their receiving at 
least one letter from him. He had so carefully 
guarded his expressions in reference to his health, that 
there appeared to be not the slightest reason to be 
alarmed. Eeceiving no communication from him for 
a week or more, his father, then in New York, felt a 
little uneasiness in consequence of this silence, and 
determined to go to City Point. He arrived there 
on September 3, and learned Justin had been trans- 
ferred to some northern hospital, having left City 
Point " not very well," August 23. Eeturning imme- 
diately, he examined the hospital records at Fortress 
Monroe, Baltimore and Philadelphia. At the medi- 
cal director's office, in Philadelphia, his name was 
found, and that he had been assigned to White- 
Hall Hospital, near Bristol, Pa. At the central office 
of this hospital a name, resembling his, with com- 
pany and regiment correct, was recorded. His 
father passed through the wards, making inquiries, 
and expecting at every step to greet his only son. 
The last ward was reached ; then for the first time 
he began to feel there was real cause for alarm. A 
most careful search of all the records at the hospital 
was made, without getting any further information, 



35 



save on the death register there was one recorded 
» Unknown, died Aug. 26, '64." Obtaining all the 
information possible, in regard to this " unknown," 
the father learned that he came to the hospital early 
on the morning of August 26, in extreme prostra- 
tion; could articulate his name, only with great 
difficulty, at the central office ; could not speak after 
arriving at the ward, and expired in about half an 
hour. He appeared to be conscious and in no pain. 
The physician administered stimulants, but it was 
too late to revive him. The "unknown" had left 
no effects. He was buried as he came, the same 
day, in the Bristol burying ground. 

In spite of the awful conviction thus forced upon 
him, that the " unknown " must be his son, the father 
could but hope to the contrary. Fearing and yet 
eager to know the truth, the remains were, at his 
request, disinterred, and there, marked plainly upon 
his clothing, were the initials of Justin's name, bear- 
ing too certain witness to his identity. 

Then came the overwhelming sorrow. He who 
was the pride and joy of the home circle — the only 
son and first-born — so fall of life — so rich in all the 
elements of a Christian manhood; died neglected, 
uncared for, alone — " unknown." Only rarely can it 
be that such a bitterness is mingled in the cup of the 
bereaved. The grief had been insupportable had not 
the bright evidence been given through the later years 
of the dear boy's life, that he was prepared to meet 
his Maker ; and that he had gone to a world of joy 
and ineffable glory, where there are no "unknown," 
and where sorrow, disease and death do not enter. 



36 



With grateful emotions the father saw upon the 
unmarked grave evergreens and flowers, placed there 
by some philanthropic hand. More especially was 
he grateful, because the evidence seemed to be con- 
clusive, that the brave boy had been hastened to his 
death by neglect. But there was at least one heart 
which could feel for the " unknown " soldier, and per- 
form an act of love to an humble defender of the 
Nation's honor. That expression of love and regard 
was given by the soldiers' friend, Kate Paxson, of 
Bristol, Pa. 

Subsequently it was learned that when placed on 
board the transport " City of Albany," at City Point, 
Justin, from his disease — typhoid fever — was quite 
delirious, though able, with the assistance of Ser- 
geant Moslander, to walk to the boat. The sur- 
geons and nurses of the hospital accompanied their 
patients to Fortress Monroe, at which point they were 
transferred to the transport Atlantic, and to the care of 
other attendants. After a passage of three days, they 
arrived at the White-Hall Hospital, a few miles from 
Philadelphia. Until the time of leaving Fortress 
Monroe, all the patients received proper attention. 
During the remainder of the passage, however, 
very little care seems to have been bestowed on them. 
Not only was Justin neglected, but was robbed of 
his money, watch and revolver before arriving at 
Philadelphia, and after leaving that point what else 
remained to him was taken, including his diary and 
portfolio. Very reluctantly is this reference made to 
the treatment of the delirious and dying boy, but 
sympathy with his sufferings is too tender, and sorrow 



37 



for the loss of the faithful record he had kept, and to 
which he very often had made reference, is too keen 
to be repressed in this memorial. 

A few days after the identification of the remains, 
they were transferred to Albany Eural Cemetery. 
There they are at rest; waiting the final resurrection, 
when, transformed into a spiritual body, pure, glori- 
ous and deathless, and united in immortal union to 
the noble and sanctified spirit, they shall ascend 
to those fields of everlasting green, and those bright 
mansions in heaven, which the Saviour of men has 
gone to prepare. The clear and beautiful evidence 
of a regenerated soul, that brightens the record of 
his short life, leaves no lingering doubt that he has 
gone to a happier country, where there is " no war 
nor battle sound," but where the Prince of Peace 
reigns and blesses with a fullness of joy unspeakable. 

The dear one, departed, died in a holy cause. The 
interests at stake were not mere earthly interests ; 
the principles in controversy were not mere mortal 
principles ; but the very pillars of God's kingdom in 
the earth. It was convictions like this that impelled 
Justix to the fight. He was the soldier both of Duty 
and of Liberty. His patriotism was nourished by his 
religious faith. He saw that God had built the altar 
and asked for the sacrifice, and he cheerfully gave his 
all. That it was not in vain — that the cause in which 
he fell was by his death advanced, we feel assured. 

These considerations, together with the hearty sym- 
pathy of a multitude of friends, pour the balm of 
consolation into the crushed and wounded hearts 
of the bereaved. Though to the mother there may 



38 



be none like her first born, noble boy, yet the honor- 
able record of his young manhood, the pure, Christian 
heart he carried into life, and the certainty of his 
glorious immortality, clothe his memory with an efful- 
gence which, even into her saddened heart, sheds its 
blessed light. 

And though, to him who has penned these lines, it 
has been a labor of love, performed with a swelling 
heart, yet, as that labor closes, there comes the glad 
reflection that, with sincere thankfulness to God, it 
may be written — Justtn t did not live in vain. 

" We live in deeds, not years — in thoughts, not breaths ; 
In feelings — not figures on a dial ; 
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives 
Who thinks most — feels the noblest — acts the best." 



39 



The air is full of farewells to the dying, 

And mournings for the dead ; 
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, 

Will not be comforted ! 

Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions 

Not from the ground arise, 
But oftentimes celestial benedictions 

Assume this dark disguise. 

We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; 

Amid these earthly damps 
What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers 

May be heaven's distant lamps. 

There is no Death ! What seems so is transition ; 

This life of mortal breath 
Is but a suburb of the life elysian, 

Whose portal we call Death. 

In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, 

By guardian angels led, 
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, 

He lives whom we call dead. 

And though at times impetuous with emotion 

And anguish long suppressed, 
The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean, 

That cannot rest — 

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling 

We may not wholly stay ; 
But silence sanctifying, not concealing 

The grief that must have way. [Longfellow. 



LETTERS. 



FKOM JUSTIN. 

Head-Quarters 3d Brig., 1st Div., 5th A. C, ) 
Near Bethesda Church, June 5, 1864. ) 

My Dear Parents : 

I received your very acceptable letter of May 29, this hour, 
and hasten to answer it, for I can know a little of your anxiety 
by my own ; but you may not realize how eagerly every 
soldier looks forward to the coming of the mail, that may 
chance to bring news from the loved ones at home. 

Ma, I have your part of the letter before me, so I will 
answer that first. You speak of my good resolutions ; they 
are just as strong; I am just as firm in them as I was the 
day I gave you that long kiss in your room, which must 
last me for some time. Still, my desire to use tobacco is very 
great ; but, my dear, I told you I would not, and with our 
Heavenly Father's help, I will not. 

You have, of course, read the accounts of this week's fight- 
ing, here, and did you think, while you were reading them, 
that you had a son in those battles ? We have had a hard 
fight almost every day this week. I have been in them all, 
and if I were to relate the " hair-breadth escapes " I have had, 
they would fill this sheet ; but as long as one does not get hit, 
the more narrow chances he has the more honorable his name. 

By reference to my diary, I find that when you were listen- 
ing to that serenade (12 o'clock) I was taking care of my 
horse, &c, preparatory to crossing the James ; and perhaps 
6 



/ 

42 

more than once, when you have been talking and laughing 
with your friends, I have been glorying with my friends over 
the result of some battle, each telling his particular narrow 
escapes. But the ball begins to open heavily on our right, 
and we don't know when it will be rolled along to us. * * 
Yes, Pa, I have had work and privations, and have been in 
as great danger as any one, this week, but I have not mur- 
mured, nor have I flinched, in the least, from any duty that 
brought me into danger. [After relating some narrow escapes, 
he says :] God must have had his protecting arm around me, 
else I should have been hit. When you write to Grandma, 
tell her how God has kept me ; how many narrow escapes I 
have had, and ask her to thank Him for preserving me when 
others were struck down. • I am sure that every morning and 
night you will, with me, praise His name for preserving me, 
and with His protecting arm around me, never fear for the 
result. 

Accept the trophies, and love, 

From your soldier son, 

JUSTIN. 



Head-Quarters 3d Brig., 1st Div., 5th A. C, ) 
In Camp, front op Petersburg, Va., July 3, 1864. j* 

My Dear Parents : 

I hasten to answer your letter, dated June 28, which came 
to hand this (Sunday) afternoon. It may seem strange to 
you, but I am sitting on the ground, beside my camp fire, 
ready for cooking, with the package of papers you sent me 
for a desk, one leg being a substitute for four. In plain 
terms, I am writing on my knee. 

In your favor you seem to think that 98 deg. is hot ; but 
what would you say, if you could know what it is to march 
on these dusty Virginia roads, with your house and furni- 
ture on your back, ammunition strapped around you, and in 



43 



your hand a heavy musket for defense, with the sun pouring 
down heat, so that the thermometer runs up to 106 deg. or 
110 deg. in the shade? But we have to march in the sun 
and not in the shade. As to rain, we have had but one little 
sprinkle since the time we drew back on our right, at Beth- 
esda Church, and formed our line of battle in a pelting, driv- 
ing storm. 

I am glad to hear that you praise God for preserving me 
in the hour of danger and battle. Almost every day I have 
additional cause for praising Him who controls everything. 
Last Thursday, as I was watering my horse, some distance 
behind the breastworks, I heard a bullet come cutting 
through the bushes, and in less time than it will take you to 
read this, it had hit me on the breast, and bounded hand- 
somely off into the water beneath. It left only a slight mark, 
which has now gone away, leaving the breast only a little 
sore. Pa, please see that Ma does not get scared over this* 
as it is nothing down here. 

Did I neglect to say in my description of Gen. Baktlett 
that he was brave ? If so, I say now that I think no braver 
man has a command. I have sometimes wished he was not 
quite so much so, for he goes all over into a fight — front, 
rear and flank. To-day he went up to Division Head-quar- 
ters, alone with me. The division commander thinks very 
much of him, and calls our brigade, for a pet name, the 
" Woodchuck Brigade." He says we can get further under 
ground, in one night, than any other brigade in the army. 

Pa, can't you spare four weeks to come down here, and see 
how finely we are situated ? If you will, we will have a tent 
by ourselves, and we can fry our hard-tack, cook our meat, 
dried apples and beans, and then eat them together; and 
when you return, you can take with you, as curiosities, 
several twenty-pound shells, found easily around here, with 
an occasional solid shot thrown in for balance. Won't it be 
nice ? 



44 



To-night they are firing pistols occasionally where you 
are, but where I am they use muskets instead, with what 
soldiers call the " blue pill." But to-morrow we may make 
a bigger noise than you. 

I think, after I have trusted my great love to you for 
Hattie, and with a kiss for all, '* Praying that we meet again," 
I will close as usual — 

Your soldier boy, 

JUSTIN. 



TO HATTIE. 

Near Bethesda Church,) 
June 5th. \ 

Dear Little Hattie: 

I read your letter first, and noticed how nicely you wrote 
it. You have improved greatly since brother came away. 
Hattie, when brother comes home, he will have a story for 
you every time you want to have one told, about fighting the 
rebels in Virginia. I would write more to you this time, but 
the rebels have just opened on our front, and I expect orders 
to saddle up and be in readiness. Just think, Hattie, while 
you are going to church on Sunday (to-day) your soldier 
brother is fighting way down in Virginia. You ask papa to 
show you where Bethesda Church is on some war map he has, 
and then you think that on Sunday — June 5th — your 
brother was sitting about one hundred yards from it, writing 
to his loved ones at home, while in front is heavy skirmishing 
all the time, and now and then a bullet comes whizzing by. 
Write to me again, little Hattie ; and when you say your little 
prayer at night, add a wish that brother may be kept safe to 
come back to his dear papa and mamma and little Hattie. 

As ever, your loving brother, 

JUSTIN. 



45 



TWO MILES SOUTH OF PETERSBURG, Va., ) 

June 24, 1864. j" 

My Dear Little Sister Hattie: 

I will answer your nice little letter now; but because I 
answer it last, you may not think I read it last, for I read it 
first, and well pleased was I to receive, too. Brother knows 
you want to see him very much ; but just think, when brother 
comes home, all tanned and blackened by the Virginia sun, 
and with clothes full of Virginia dust, and with many a story 
of Virginia fights to tell you — won't you be proud of him, 
then ? I wonder if you would know me now ; for I am tanned 
as bad as though I had been down here three years. 

I should like to see Sancho now ; he must be quite a dog. 
Does he bark as much as usual now, and whine, too ? Please 
give him my compliments. 

Tell Mary to be a good girl, and when I send for a box of 
" goodies " next winter, to fix me up something nice. 

I also send through you to Ma a flower pressed, taken from 
a wild bush in front of Petersburg, on the south side. I see 
I am flanked for paper — [margin completely filled] — so I 
will beat a hasty retreat, and, with a good-bye, close with 
Your soldier brother, 

JUSTIN. 



Head-Quarters 3d Brig., 1st Drv., 5th A. C, ) 
In Camp front Petersburg, July 10, 1864. j" 

My Dear Little Sister Hattie : 

Your very nicely written favor of the 19th of June, was 
acknowledged by me at the time I answered papa's and 
mamma's letters. 

I hardly know how to answer your little letters, but if 
thanking you for the lots of news you tell me about the little 
orphan girls, Sancho, your lace bonnet, Maj.-Gen. Tom Thumb 
and wife, Com. Nutt and Minnie Warren ; and if telling you 



46 



about something down here will do it, I think I can do so. 
And now, with many thanks for the package of news, I want 
to first tell you that I have a dear little pony to ride, and his 
name is — what do you think ? — Willie. Before I got him 
his name was Billy, but I thought that was too harsh a name 
for such a cunning little, sorrel pony. You must ask papa to 
show you a sorrel horse, then you will know the color of my 
brave little horse. And then he rides so nicely, too, I almost 
think you could ride on him ; and he is so gentle he would 
not bite nor try to kick you. In the morning the first thing 
I do after getting up, is to put on my shoes — for down here 
we very seldom take anything else off — and then I go and 
give Willie his oats. After he and I have eaten our break- 
fast I give him some water ; then I clean him so that he 
shines nicely ; and when we have hay he often asks me for 
some ; then he thanks me after I have given him some. But 
he looks at me now, little Hattie, as though he wanted some 
water ; so sending through you my compliments to Mary, 
Sancho and that white lace bonnet, 

I am your soldier brother, 

JUSTIN R. H. 



47 



Rev. Mr. Fulton, of Boston, formerly of Albany, and who 
knew Justin intimately, made a very touching allusion to his 
Christian character, in a sermon preached in Albany, in Octo- 
ber last. He spoke particularly of Justin as a teacher of the 
Infant Department of the Sabbath School. In place of his 
mother, whose ill health compelled her to relinquish her 
charge, Justin reluctantly assumed her task and taught the 
class during several months. While he was making this 
reference, many of the pupils being present, testified their 
grief and affection for their departed teacher by tears and 
sobs. He also alluded to the bright example of his Christian 
life, and appealed to the youth of the congregation to emu- 
late that example. Though his life was short, yet it presented 
a completeness; it was rounded into a symmetry which 
usually, if at all, comes from age and long experience. His 
was a character developed and finished with beautiful propor- 
tions in a brief space of time. 

A letter from Mr. Fulton is here given : 

Boston, Sept 24, 1864. 

Dear Bro. and Sister: 

Give place to a word from one that mourns the death of 
Justin. What hopes were built upon the beautiful youth, 
who could not live, if he was not permitted to share the perils 
of the camp and field. I cannot express my sympathy. I 
know how your future is shrouded. Dear wife and mother, 
I know how you will miss the petting of the loving son, whose 
life was your admiration, and whose future was your life. 

It seems but yesterday since I heard you tell, with pride, 
of his going off to the camp. How bright was your eye, how 
full your heart because of love. My chief regret is, that I 
cannot lift the heavy folds of mourning and pass within the 
portals of your grief, surrounded as it is by the tracery of an 
immortal life. 



48 



I shall think of you often; and when the voice of the 
minister is heard, think that in spirit we sit beside you, 
shrouded in black, mourners of the fallen, and sharers of the 
joy which his Christian life and beautiful character begets. 

In sorrow and in love, 

JUSTIN D. FULTON. 

A few letters of condolence, from officers in the army, are 
selected : 

GEN. J. J. BAETLETT'S LETTEE. 

Head-Quarters 3d Brigade, ) 
1st Div., 5th Corps, A. P., October 2, 1864. \ 

My Dear Sir : 

The melancholy intelligence of the death of my little friend, 
your son, did not reach me until my arrival in camp a few 
days ago. Since that time my corps has been engaged in a 
series of actions, which has prevented my replying sooner to 
your kind letter. 

I cannot hope to give consolation to parents for such a loss, 
but as a last tribute of respect to a noble, generous, Christian 
boy, I claim the privilege of offering my condolence in com- 
mon with your many friends. 

Your son was near my person during most of the battles 
of this campaign, and his cool, intrepid spirit, combined with 
touching gentleness of manners, endeared him to me after our 
first action together. As I became better acquainted with 
his character, I loved him like a brother ; advised him against 
low associations and the vices of the camp, and learned, 
greatly to my surprise, that his gentle bearing emanated from 
a pure, Christian spirit, and I felt that the child should be my 
instructor. 

When I received my sick-leave he was not very well, and I 
ordered that he should be taken into the office as a clerk, 
where I supposed I should find him upon my return. I had 
thus provided for his safety during my absence, but an all- 



49 



wise Providence removed him from my care and sheltered 
him beneath angel's wings. 

I sincerely sympathize with you, his parents — for having 
known and loved him I know and feel your loss. Believing 
that God alone can give you consolation, I subscribe myself, 
Very respectfully, your friend, 

JO s . J. BARTLETT. 



MAJOR CAMPBELL ALLEN'S LETTER. 

Albany, March 19, 1865. 

My dear Huntley : 

Learning that you are collecting all the information possible 
relating to the connection of your late lamented son, Justin, 
with the army, I send you, most cheerfully, the following brief 
reminiscences : 

I first knew him in September, 1861, when the 44th Regi- 
ment was organizing in this city. I had often seen him before, 
and had been struck with his gentlemanly deportment ; but 
at that time I became more particularly acquainted with him. 
He called on me, and stated his desire to go with the regi- 
ment. Being only fourteen years of age, of course I told him 
it was impossible. To go as a soldier he knew he could not, 
but thought he might do for a drummer. He expressed him- 
self as feeling that boys, as well as men, had a duty to per- 
form, and that, if he could do anything for his country, he 
ought to do it. Not knowing him intimately then, I feared, 
in his great anxiety, he might be tempted to leave home with- 
out consulting his parents ; but a little further acquaintance 
convinced me that he would, on no account, do anything con- 
trary to the wishes of his father, or that would wound the 
feelings of his mother. 

Early in 1864, 1 was in command of a recruiting detachment 
in this city, and he frequently came to the office, stating his 
desire to enlist, and regretting that he was not a year or two 
older. He appeared to feel strongly that every man and boy, 
7 



50 



capable of rendering any service to the country, ought to take 
part in her defense ; that, unless he could get into the service 
at that time, he would, in all probability, not have another 
opportunity, at least in our regiment, which he preferred above 
all others, and that he would hardly respect himself if the war 
should end and he have had no hand in it. 1 was fully con- 
vinced that he was influenced only by a sense of duty and a 
laudable ambition. He was again and again told of the hard- 
ships and dangers of a soldier's life; the dark side of the 
picture was represented to him in its most sombre colors ; but 
without affecting in the least his desire " to bear his share," 
as he expressed it. At last he came with his father's written 
consent to his enlistment, and stated that his mother had, 
though very reluctantly, given hers. After enlisting, which 
was on the 31st of March, his quick intelligence, his ready 
and elegant use of the pen, and his gentlemanly address, made 
him of great service in the recruiting office ; therefore, instead 
of forwarding him immediately to the regiment, as was the 
case with other recruits, I retained him until the detachment 
was relieved and ordered to the front, after the commencement 
of the spring campaign. 

Upon his arrival at the regiment, he shouldered his musket 
and assumed his duties like an old soldier. Indeed, his previ- 
ous attention to military tactics had prepared him, not merely 
for the duties of the soldier, for, with the exception of his 
extreme youth, he was fully competent to command a com- 
pany. The fortitude with which he sustained the toilsome 
marches which the regiment was obliged to make shortly 
after his arrival, was astonishing, in one so young, and so 
little accustomed to any kind of hardship. I particularly 
remember him, one day, towards the close of the march, man- 
fully carrying his knapsack and musket in the broiling sun, 
and at last coming into bivouac with the regiment, when 
many of the veterans had been compelled, by the intense heat, 
and the length and rapidity of the march, to fall behind. 



51 



After he had been with the regiment about two weeks, he 
was selected to act as special orderly to General Bartlett, 
commanding our brigade, a position requiring superior intel- 
ligence, reliability and courage, and for which he was desig- 
nated by reason of his peculiar fitness. At that time I was 
in command of the 44th, and afterwards frequently received, 
through him, messages and orders from the General. He was 
always prompt and accurate, and as steady under fire as any 
veteran in the service. He was a great favorite with the Gen- 
eral and his staff; all spoke in the highest terms of him, and 
prophesied for him a speedy promotion and a brilliant career. 

On the 31st of July I left the regiment, sick, and heard 
nothing from Justin till I received a letter at the hospital in 
Philadelphia, announcing his death. I was much shocked and 
grieved at the sad intelligence, for I really loved the boy, as I 
believe every one did who came much in contact with him. 
His characteristics were such as compel esteem and love from 
all who could appreciate goodness, courage, high-mindedness 
and warm-heartedness. He possessed a strong and unwaver- 
ing sense of right and duty, a noble ambition to achieve dis- 
tinction by well-doing, and an unbounded veneration and love 
for his parents, which were at all times a safeguard against 
any word or action which could cause them a blush or give 
them a pang. 

I have thus stated briefly what I know of your noble boy. 
To you who know so well his many excellencies, and who 
loved him so fondly, I can add nothing which would not seem 
cold and worthless. May the recollections of his many virtues, 
the knowledge that he died in a glorious cause, and the cer- 
tainty of his happy immortality, continue to support you 
under your great bereavement. 

Your friend, 

C. ALLEN. 



CAPT. A. ST. HUSTED'S LETTEE. 

Camp 44th New York Vols., ) 
Near Petersburg, Va., v 
Sept. 13, 1864. ) 

My Dear Huntley : 

Your letter of the 8th is received. I learned of your be- 
reavement two days previous, from Corp. Champlin, of Co. 
A, who went up in the boat with Justin. I would have 
written you at once, but I was certain that you had learned 
the facts ; besides, it was difficult for me to summon courage 
to speak to you of so great a sorrow, and so unexpected was 
the announcement that I could scarcely credit it. [Here fol- 
low some details of his sickness, elsewhere given.] 

While Justin was at Brigade Head-quarters, I had few 
opportunities of observing him ; but during the fortnight in 
which he marched and bivouacked with my company, I saw 
much of him, and became deeply interested in him. None 
could fail to notice those christian, manly and soldierly 
qualities which so endeared him to all who knew him. 

I well remember the day he joined us. It was near the 
close of operations at Spotsylvania. We lay within sight of 
the court-house. To him the mysteries were then new, but 
he unraveled them, and made himself familiar with them, as 
by intuition. In less than a week he appeared, saving his 
youth and freshness, as much the veteran as any of his com- 
rades. His light and immature frame looked quite unequal 
to the tasks of a soldier in the ranks, and as his educa- 
tion, capacity and promptness fitted him for higher duty, it 
was not intended he should carry a musket. The clerkship 
designed for him, not being yet available, he was, in the 
meantime, retained with the company. When orders were 
received for our next move, he procured a musket and equip- 
ments, took his place in the ranks, and with a fortitude and 
determination which never flagged, kept up with the column, 
though many of superior strength and experience succumbed 
to the fatigues of the march, and were left behind. 



53 



At the battles of North Anna, Tolopotomy Creek, Magno- 
lia Swamp and Bethesda Church or Coal Harbor, he behaved 
with marked coolness and intrepidity. I noticed him parti- 
cularly, in the last named battle. At one time we seemed 
almost surrounded by the enemy — rebel shot and shell being 
hurled upon us from three different directions. In the hottest 
of the fight, Justin rode beside Gen. Bartlett, apparently 
as calm and collected as the general himself. * * * To 
both Mrs. H. and yourself, I tender my most sincere and 
heartfelt sympathy. The agony of your grief I cannot realize, 
but, believe me, no other event of the kind has caused me so 
much sorrow. Why one so young and promising was taken, 
I cannot tell ; God knoweth. 

Very truly yours, 

A. N. HUSTED. 



Lieut. L. C. Bartlett, of the staff of Gen. Bartlett, was 
requested to furnish statistics relating to the military services 
of Justin, for the Military Bureau of New York. The fol- 
lowing letter accompanied those statistics : 

Head-Quarters, 3d Brig., 1st Div., 5th A. C, ) 
November 11, 1864. ) 

Mr. W. D. Huntley, Albany, N. Y. : 

Dear Sir : I received your communication several days ago, 
and embrace my first opportunity of answering it. It is with 
a sad heart I write of Justin, as one who is to be with us no 
more ; and yet it is a pleasure for me to be the one chosen to 
bear testimony of his worth as a soldier, and of the love and 
respect which, by his uniform good conduct and gentlemanly 
bearing, he won from all who knew him. 

He joined us at Hanover Town just after the crossing of 
the Pamunkey, and was selected by the General as his own 
orderly. From the first day of his arrival, I took a great 
interest in him. Being young myself, I could appreciate his 



54 



trials and sympathize with all his feelings, and ever did all in 
ray power to make his position as easy and agreeable to him 
as possible. He was uniformly so polite and willing to do his 
duty, that we all very soon learned to respect and honor him. 

On May 30 he went with the General and staff into the 
battle of Tolopotomy Creek ; then followed that of Magnolia 
Swamp ; and on the 2d and 3d of June came the hard fight 
of Bethesda Church, in which our brigade bore the most con- 
spicuous part. I saw Justix in all of these battles, and when 
the bullets were choosing their victims from his very side. 
Once a shell exploded, sending a small fragment into his haver- 
sack, prevented only from entering his body by his well-filled 
portfolio. I remarked, " That was pretty close he answered, 
with a smile, " Yes, plenty near enough." During that terri- 
ble fight he never once flinched, but bore all with the coolness 
of a veteran soldier. Death in some of its worst forms faced 
him there upon that bloody field ; but the purity of his young 
and noble soul strengthened his heart, and he gazed upon its 
horror with an unwavering eye. His was the consciousness 
of being engaged in a holy cause, for which it were not death 
to die. 

I am not accustomed to writing letters of this character, 
and may have said many things which may grate upon your 
feelings and deepen the wounds not yet healed. If so, for- 
give me. I have only written a very slight tribute to one 
I loved, and in the words which came first from my full 
heart. 

I shall be happy, my dear sir, if I have been able to serve 
the purpose you have in view, in this attempt to record the 
worth and services of your noble son. 

" He lived as mothers wish their boys to live ; 
He died as fathers wish their sons to die." 

I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

L. C. BARTLETT, 
Lt. & A. A. A. G. 



55 



Letter from Capt. E. Douglass, of the 47th X. Y. V., for- 
merly sergeant in Co. E., 44th N. Y. V., and with whom 
Jlstin was on most intimate terms from the time of his 
enlistment, in Albany, till his death, and with whom he 
tented previous to being detailed at head-quarters : 

Camp before Richmond, Va., ) 
October 25, 1864. \ 

Dear Mr. Huntley : 

Your letter arrived three or four days ago, and if possible 
it should have been answered the very day of its receipt, but 
as we have been for the last two weeks in " lisrht marching 
order," without tents, books, stationery, etc., I had not the 
desired opportunity. Indeed, as soon as I heard the unex- 
pected intelligence of Justin's death, I was on the point of 
writing you, to express the real heart-felt sorrow I felt on 
learning that your son, who, to me, always appeared as the 
symbol of life and joy, was no more. How full of spirits and 
exuberant vitality he always was — the very last that I should 
have considered likely to be called away. 

He belonged to the very best type of our American youth — 
active, enterprising, ready for any emergency, and without 
those faults which are the bane of the youth of our country. 
I know of no young man whom I should have been so glad 
to point out to a foreigner as an example of the results of our 
American family life and style of social habits. 

But what pleased me most, and I am sure you will be glad 
to hear it, was his attachment to sacred and religious duties. 
He was, in the best sense of the word, a good lad. Xor did 
he think, as many do, that there was anything to be ashamed 
of in this reverence for the lessons of virtue and truth which 
he had learned at the fireside and in the sanctuary. There 
was a simplicity and openness in his disposition which forbade 
any concealment in such matters. If there is anything pecu- 
liarly sad in army life, it is to see these prematurely devel- 



56 



oped, over-knowing boys, who are precocious in picking up 
all the vices of manhood, without any of the counter-balanc- 
ing virtues. . With this class Justin had nothing in common, 
and sought no association with them. Happily in the 44th 
there was plenty of a better sort, and while with the regi- 
ment he had no lack of congenial associates. 

I wish you could have seen Justin when reading his letters 
from home. They were a constant source of delight to him. 
Whenever I went to Gen. Bartlett's head-quarters he had 
always something to say about his letters and their contents. 
His little sister was often spoken of, and never without some 
word of endearment. But his mother — his "dear mother," 
his "good mother" — he was never tired of talking of her. 
[An extract from this place may be found on page 34.] 

I remember also a letter from his grandmother which 
Justin read to me. It was written just after being informed 
that he had left home for the army. It was full of good and 
appropriate advice, and Justin highly appreciated it. The 
tears stood in his eyes while he read it to me, and I am sure 
the writer would have been gratified to witness the good 
effect of her letter. * * * * * * 

While the army is in camp, the position of orderly is not 
an unpleasant one, but in an active campaign, it is one of no 
little fatigue and danger. With the exception of carrying a 
knapsack it is fully as exhausting as a place in the ranks. 
Justin was a good soldier, and to my personal knowledge 
did his whole duty. It would be impossible to find one more 
brave, for he seemed to manifest no fear in the most trying 
circumstances. I recollect one instance, when we were 
evacuating a perilous position in the face of the enemy, in 
broad daylight, and a large number of our troops were going 
to the rear in confusion, Gen. Bartlett and staff rode by. 
A shell exploded at that moment, and we all expected some 
of the group would be killed ; Justin was present and received 
a part of the shell in his clothing. The group were consid- 



57 



erably startled, but Justin looked round to me and smiled at 
the scene, with its rearing horses and dust-covered riders. 

But he is gone, and these little particulars, though perhaps 
interesting, cannot conceal from you the greatness of the loss 
you have suffered. It is easy to say, u it is all for the best," 
yet how hard to be consoled by it. Nevertheless it is a con- 
solation to feel thus. Justin will always be remembered by 
you, as your son, unspoiled by the contact with the world — 
always in the bloom of youth — having passed from you 
before the cares and vexations of manhood had time to de- 
stroy the promise of his childhood. Is not this a consolation ? 

Most sincerely yours, 

EUGENE DOUGLASS. 



[Albany Knickerbocker, Sept. 15, 1864.] 

Still Another Victim. — This wicked and unholy war has 
got another victim of zeal and Christian fidelity for love of 
country. Justin R. Huntley, son of Professor Huntley, 
went forth to fight, and his life has been taken away. How 
beautiful the picture — a lad, scarcely in his teens, going forth 
to fight, fired with a patriotic devotion for his country. How 
many could emulate his example, but how few do. But a 
few months ago this young man enlisted in the 44th (Ells- 
worth) Regiment N. Y. Volunteers. On going to the front 
he was compelled to carry the knapsack and musket, and we 
only wonder how his frail system could stand this. But a 
short time in the ranks, when he was called on the staff of 
Gen. Bartlett. Subsequently, while being conveyed to one 
of the hospitals north, his spirit winged its flight to his God, 
to whom he had often, at home and in the camp, prayed, 
bowed, and meekly asked that his life might be spared to 
endure all the toil and hardships of a soldier, and that he 
might see his country again at peace. His loss is deeply 
8 



58 



regretted, for a nobler, purer youth could not be. To the 
pain and suffering that this bitter and excessive grief brings 
upon fond, sensitive and doting parents, this community will 
extend their kind commiseration. 



[Albany Morning Express.] 

RESOLUTIONS OF OOM30LENCE. 

At a meeting of the soldier friends of J. R. Huntley, Co. 
E, 44th X. Y. Vol., the following preamble and resolutions 
were adopted : 

Whereas, It has pleased the Almighty Ruler of the Uni- 
verse to remove from our midst, by the hand of death, our 
beloved comrade, J. R. Huntley; and whereas, we have 
always found him, during his stay, a sincere friend and true 
patriot, as well as a brave and gallant soldier, therefore, 

Resolved, That in the death of J. R. Huntley we are 
called upon to sustain the loss of a dear friend and brother 
soldier, one who has commanded our admiration for his ability 
and integrity as a soldier, and our esteem as a gentleman, for 
the uniform courtesy which marked his intercourse with all. 

Resolved, That while we deeply deplore his early death, 
we sympathize sincerely with his bereaved parents and friends, 
and we shall cherish the fond recollections of his many acts 
of kindness when living. 

Resolved, That the above be published in the Albany 
Morning Express, and a copy be transmitted to the parents 
of deceased. 



59 



[Albany Evening Journal, October 26, 1864.] 

LS T MEMOEIAM. 

Said the gallant and widely lamented Wlntheop : " We 
are making history now-a-days hand oyer hand." He spoke 
truly in his own characteristic way. Many a month of our 
past peace, will demand fewer pages from the future chron- 
icler, than a day, or an hour, of these throbbing times. And 
although the entire story of the war will be held precious by 
those that will come after us, yet the most cherished chapters 
shall be those that tell of the pure patriotism, the deep devo- 
tion, the sublime self-abnegation of those, who taking their 
lives in their hands, counted them as nothing if, offering them 
up, they might restore the integrity of the Union. 

Rev. Mr. Bridgaiax, last Sabbath morning, to one of the 
largest congregations ever assembled in his church, contain- 
ing representatives from all the sister churches of the city, 
preached a very touching and impressive sermon, commemo- 
rative of a young hero, whose record will make the page of 
history on which it rests, forever sacred and shining. The 
main idea running through the sermon, and so lovingly and 
luminously wrought out, was that we never have our friends 
at their best till we lose them; that before they can come 
back to us in the pure splendor of their spirituality, they must 
fade away from the eye of sense. 

Justin R. Hu>"tley, of this city, in the eighteenth year of 
his age, in the first flush of his youth, enrolled himself in the 
army of the Union. With that army his lot was cast ; their 
high hopes, their loyal aims, were his from that "time until 
that day of last August, when God took him off duty for- 
ever." Handsome, graceful, talented, surrounded by troops 
of loving friends, blessed by a peculiarly attractive home, he 
put aside the bright probabilities of his future in our midst, 
and fixing his eyes upon the waving folds of that flag that 
symbolized to him a country worth dying for, because worth 
living for, he resolved, "God helping, it should never trail 



60 



that banner in the dust," he resolved to take no thought for 
his individual future until the national future was made secure 
beyond all peradventure. And so he went to the field. 

As to his subsequent brief career, his General ( Bartlett ) 
tells in a most tender letter to his parents. The members of 
his regiment, and all with whom he came in contact while 
in the army, bear testimony as to how nobly, how conscien- 
tiously he did his soldierly duties ; how cool and brave he was 
under fire; and, above all, how pure a life he led always. 
The boy is dead, but this record survives him : that he was a 
man, as manhood stands for strength, wisdom, discreetness, 
self-command — that he was a child, as childhood means ten- 
derness, gentleness, affection, and that without which "ye 
cannot enter the Kingdom." Is it not wonderful to think of 
the general feeling of respect and admiration which he 
inspired with his extreme youth and of the early maturity of 
so beautiful a character ? Over his fresh green grave may be 
fittingly spoken the epitaph of a young English poet, "To 
win such love as he won in life, to leave so dear a memory as 
he has left, is a happiness that falls to few men." In the 
flower of his youth, when all around was bright and the path 
ahead looked " sweet as summer," he has vanished. And yet, 
if to live in hearts we leave behind is not to die, then be still 
abides with us, and the length of his days shall be commen- 
surate to the length of ours ! He has vanished ; and yet 
when he was yet present in the flesh, he was so thoroughly 
vitally alive that we cannot make him dead. As Curtis says 
of the brave young Winthrop, so we say of the brave young 
Huntley, " Such was the electric vitality of this young friend 
of ours, that we cannot think of him as dead. We never shall. 
When he went away he was alive, alert, immortal." 



OF 

JUSTIN R. HUNTLEY. 

3 tt flu at 26, 1664. 



6/ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




013 760 480 2 



